


Charming

by SoDoRoses (FairyChess)



Series: LAOFT Extras [12]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Humor, M/M, actual disney prince roman, brief bullying/harassment, brief mentions of blood and forced servitude, i did actually write out those oaths but putting them in seemed pretentious, i guess lemme know if you want a snapshot of fey legal minutiae, it's what he deserves, smooches but nothing too hashtag saucy, vague threats of violence, you know what i wanna talk about?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-30
Updated: 2019-05-30
Packaged: 2020-03-29 19:42:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19026622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FairyChess/pseuds/SoDoRoses
Summary: Roman is dashing and chivalrous and entirely too nobleIs it any wonder the other three are smitten with him?Love and Other FairytalesVerse





	Charming

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from @centrumlumina over on tumblr:
> 
> "Laoft Roman + "princey""
> 
> sorry this took me so long it got... QUITE a bit longer than i intended

_Gentleman – a chivalrous, courteous, or honorable man_

* * *

Patton didn’t really know what the dance he and Roman were doing was called. He thought it might be some kind of swing, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t a dance at all, and was just an excuse for Roman to spin Patton around in dizzying circles.

Patton had no complaints.

(He never got to dance with Virgil or Logan at the revels – Virgil sometimes in their room, which made Patton feel floaty and relaxed and content, no matter how stressed he was, but Logan refused to even try.)

But at revels he only danced with Roman, and he really didn’t have anything to complain about. Roman was enthusiastic and loved to spin Patton until he was dizzy, which gave Patton an excuse to wrap his arms tight around Roman’s neck. Which in turn gave him an excuse to press sneaky kisses to Roman’s neck and his jaw. Sometimes they led to  _real_  kisses but most of the time it was just a chance to rain affection on Roman, which was an opportunity Patton just couldn’t pass up.

Patton tugged deliberately, their signal for wanting to be spun out, and Roman laughed, loud and genuine over the nearby crowd, and released one of his hands.

Patton moved out, but he didn’t get far – and he was still facing Roman, so he saw Roman’s expression go startled, then hard.

He took an alarmingly fast step forward, slipping his arms around Patton. There was a spin, less enthusiastic or joyful but no less deliberate, and much faster to boot. And then they were back where they started.

Except now, Patton’s feet were off the ground entirely, swept up and held in Roman’s arms like he weighed nothing. Patton probably had some starry eyed expression on his face, but Roman was scowling at whoever had nearly bumped into Patton.

“Manner-less, drunk,” he muttered, “You okay Patton-cake?”

“I am now,” said Patton in an entirely-too-enthusiastic voice. Roman turned a little pink and smiled. He moved to place Patton back on his feet.

“Um-” blurted Patton, and Roman paused.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” said Patton before he could lose his nerve, “Could I try something?”

Roman gave a baffled nod.

Patton tightened his arms around Roman’s neck and brought their faces together, kissing him soundly.

It wasn’t a very good angle, really, and Roman couldn’t move his hands much because he was supporting Patton, but it made something giggly and starstruck bloom in Patton’s chest.

“Who knew there were  _two_  Prince Charming’s in this relationship,” Patton joked quietly against Roman’s mouth.

Roman surpassed pink into straight out scarlet.

“ _Pat!_  Do  _not_  say that in front of Virgil,”

Patton leaned closer again, giggling

“Aw gee, maybe you should give me something else to do with my very lonely lips,”

Roman giggled right back, letting Patton legs slip to the ground but still supporting his weight, sealing their mouths together until the music of the revel faded into nothing so much as background noise.

* * *

_Knight – someone afforded a title by the sovereign, in recognition of merit_

* * *

So Virgil was maybe really nervous, and he probably wasn’t doing  _Roman’s_  nerves any favors by being cagey and withdrawn. He’d given fond but restrained smiles in response to Roman’s playful attempts to hand feed him fruit, and he kept watching Roman like he’d be able to predict his reaction if he stared long enough.

After several minutes of this, Roman snapped.

“What is it?” he blurted.

Virgil hesitated.

“Please,” said Roman, “I can’t- I can’t handle trying to guess what I did wrong, it-”

“ _Wrong-? No_ , no Roman,” Virgil was immediately panicked, turning to face Roman directly, “You haven’t- nothing’s wrong,”

Roman relaxed, probably far too much than the situation warranted.

“I’m sorry,” soothed Virgil, “I’m- I’m just nervous,”

Roman looked up, baffled.

Virgil gave a wan smile.

“Alright so,” he started, “I have a question. There’s no wrong answer,”

Roman waited, and when the silence stretched a beat too long, he nodded encouragingly.

Virgil blew a breath out of his teeth.

“Do you want to be a knight?”

Roman cocked his head, turning the question over in his mind.

“I’m confused,” he said, “I already am one?”

Virgil cleared his throat, picking at the hem of his shirt.

“Your oath was- it wasn’t to me,”

Roman’s face paled instantly.

“And he’s dead so- you were released,” said Virgil, “You’d have to make another,”

Roman was clearly not enthused by this. Which- which really was fine, Virgil didn’t want Roman to feel like he had to, but it did make something small and hurt barely touch the inside of his ribs.

“You don’t have to,” said Virgil, “I mean it. If you  _want,_  you can, but I won’t make you,”

Roman grabbed Virgil’s hand like he was gripping a lifeline. After a long pause, he cleared his throat.

“What would you have me do?” he said quietly.

Virgil shook his head, “No, Roman, it doesn’t make a difference to me. It’s if you  _want_  to,”

“You misunderstand me,” said Roman, smiling a little and reaching up to swipe a quick thumb across Virgil’s cheek, “Though I appreciate the sentiment. I meant what task would you give me, to prove my merit? I’m afraid I’m not quite as comfortable with bloodshed these days,”

Virgil stared.

After long pause, Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Were you that sure I’d say no, that you didn’t come up with anything?” he asked.

Virgil sat up on his knees and pulled Roman to match him, so they were face to face and their breaths were sharing the space between their mouths.

“Prove your merit?”

Virgil was almost amused. Roman quirked an eyebrow.

“…Yes? That is generally how it goes,”

“You made a vow to wake me up,” said Virgil, “You were young, and if you didn’t keep it there was nobody who could hold you to it. You did it anyway. Loyalty.”

He kissed the crest of Roman’s cheek.

“You went back to my brother to get the ring, knowing you were walking toward what very well might be you own execution. Courage,”

Roman made a strange, involuntary sounding noise, and he looked like he might be about to cry.

“And you spent two years trying to make sure as many humans as possible got free of the curses he put on them. What could possibly be more noble than that?”

Virgil pressed their foreheads together. Roman’s breath came out of him in a long shudder.

“If you do absolutely nothing for the rest of your life,” murmured Virgil, “You would still have more merit than every knight in the court combined. You don’t have to prove  _shit_  to me,”

He grinned then.

“And you rescued the sleeping beauty, Prince Charming. what more could I ask for?”

Roman snickered, mortified and bright red.

“I’ve broken a knight’s oath before you know,” said Roman wetly, “Most people would be a bit wary,”

“He broke his first,” said Virgil, “It’s a two way street. He never understood that kind of thing,”

“He- what oath? There was no oath  _he_  made,”

Virgil’s hands tightened on Roman’s arms, his face going pained.

“He was supposed to,” said Virgil quietly. “And I will –  _if_  you’ll take it. You can still say no,”

Roman kissed him, and Virgil was overwhelmed with dozens of spinning, dazzling emotions. Virgil returned it immediately.

And then Roman spoke, murmuring the words of loyalty into Virgil’s mouth. As he did Virgil shivered, pulling him closer, until the last syllable ended on a gasp when Virgil’s teeth grazed against Roman’s neck.

And then Virgil uttered another back, acceptance and promise and protection in one, and he couldn’t help the awe and joy and  _gratitude_ his voice was echoing with. He barely finished it before Roman pushed Virgil to his back, kissing the star struck smile off his face.

* * *

_Champion – a person who fights or argues for a cause on behalf of someone else_

* * *

Virgil and Patton normally came to Logan and Roman, rather than the other way around.

When Logan, momentarily separated from the other three due to becoming distracted by an unfortunately-place sconce of bright blue flame (and now trying not to panic as he attempted to locate them), turned a corner and nearly walked smack into a very irate-looking Unseelie ogre, he remembered why.

“Watch it, Snowmelt,”

Logan flinched before he could stop himself. It had been some time since he’d heard that name spoken in such a tone.

The ogre grinned, snide and condescending.

“Not so tough without all your pretty lovers, are you?”

And then Logan’s embarrassment gave way to furious indignation, and a snarl bubbled up out of his throat.

“Oh, are you going to fight me now?” laughed the Unseelie, “Quite a big noise for such a little thing,”

Logan was acutely aware that this ogre was around a dozen feet tall, with a frame twice as broad as Logan’s own. Logan could just barely see rhododendrons blooming as his own feet, and thought a little irritably that it would be helpful to have a less ornamental plant at the moment.

He’d yet to recreate the frankly terrifying rose bush from the fight with Mrs. Fischer, and he’d very much been trying.

The Unseelie moved forward a step, and Logan took one back automatically. The ogre laughed again.

“Are you going to run off to the prince and tattle? What will you do when he grows bored of his little Spring pet?”

That was an inaccurate assumption based on biased and faulty data and yet it was still making Logan’s throat close up.

“Maybe our lord needs a reason to be more careful,” said the ogre, “Not too safe to give his pets the right to wander our hills without  _leashes_ ,”

He took another menacing step forward, and Logan placed his hand on the stone next to him – it wasn’t dirt, and he was more likely to cause irritation at best, but he was certainly not going to cower or  _run away._

“Considering it’s smack in the middle of spring,” came a familiar – but unfamiliarly  _vicious_  – voice from behind Logan, “I’d say he has a right to be wherever he damn well pleases,”

The Unseelie sneered as Roman came around Logan’s shoulder into view.

“And yet he cannot even defend himself from mere words,” crooned the ogre, “Needs to be rescued by human, apparently,”

“The changeling has every right to name a champion,” said Roman acidly, “And would you look at that – I’m human, yes, but also a knight, which is more than you can say for yourself,”

That brought the other fae up short.

“…You are the prince’s champion,” they said warily, “Not the changeling’s,”

“I think you’ll find I can be both,” said Roman, his voice layered with something deadly, “And if you’d like to ask the prince about it to confirm, I’d be truly  _delighted_  to take you to him,”

The Unseelie paled, gave one last furious scowl at Logan, and turned to flee down the hallway.

A knot of tension loosened in Logan’s shoulders, the same moment Roman tugged him into an alcove and cradled his face. Logan wasn’t sure what sort of expression he might be wearing, but it was most likely hopelessly fond.

“You know,” he said quietly, “I do not think I remember naming a champion of any sort,”

Roman didn’t look even remotely sheepish.

“I said you could, not that you had,”said Roman, “And you can. I’d be glad to do it,”

“I  _should_  be capable of defending myself,”

“The only thing you  _should_  be capable of of is walking down a hallway without being accosted by  _assholes_ ,” said Roman, “And if I have to swing an iron dagger around or snitch to Virgil to make that happen than so be it,”

“You are so…”

Gallant. Ridiculous. Heroic. Naive. Brave. Lovely. No word seemed adequate.

“Just kiss me, Prince Charming,” Logan muttered, his expression dry and sarcastic but his voice hopelessly sincere.

Roman’s face burned scarlet, but he didn’t put up even token resistance when Logan pulled him down face to face and dragged them both further into the alcove.

* * *

_Prince – Male royalty, especially the son of a monarch_

* * *

 

“If everyone who  _ain’t_ fireproof, especially the one who can  _melt_ , would please get the hell out of the way, I’d be quite appreciative,”

“Says the brilliant cooking tactician who didn’t set up the grill  _before_ the fire,” drawled Virgil.

“Oh, can it, ya disrespectful little shit-”

Roman rolled his eyes, taking the copper grate from Mamaw pointedly.

“ _I’m_  disrespectful?” said Virgil.

Mamaw took her place in a lawn chair, a haughty expression on her face.

“Yeah, yeah, lord of the forest, et cetera, et cetera – well, I’m the damn unchallenged queen of this lawn here, and if I tell ya to get the hell out of the way you’d best be listenin’”

“Lawn’s in the forest,”

“So’s the iron fence, ya gonna claim that, too?”

“You know,” said Mrs. Sanders wearily, “Sometimes I wonder what it might be like to have peaceful picnics. Civil discussions. Manners,”

“Dorothy, ya mean to tell me yer not gonna back me up in my own house?”

“I mean to tell you exactly that,” said Mrs. Sanders.

Roman could have sworn he saw Virgil make spectacularly immature face at Mamaw behind Mrs. Sanders back.

Roman had just got the grate clicked into place when Mamaw spoke again, this time directed at him.

“Roman, prince of the lawn, back yer old woman up,”

“Oh my-  _you, too?”_ demanded Roman, throwing his hands up in the air. “What is with all of you and the prince jokes?”

There was a scant pause, where Mamaw looked a little confused and all three of his boyfriends looked more considering than Roman was strictly comfortable with.

“…  _All_?” said Patton brightly.

“Don’t you dare!” said Roman, “Pat, I mean it,”

Patton exchanged glances with Virgil and Logan who both looked uncharacteristically gleeful.

“Prince Roman!” Patton crowed, delighted.

Roman was sure his face was scarlet.

“Oh- Patton, shut  _up!_ ”

“Prince Roman! Our Prince! Princey, Princey-”

Whether he was making jokes at Roman’s expense or not, Roman could not resist Patton’s grabby hands, which was how he ended up kneeling in front of Patton, going steadily crimson, while Patton chanted “Princey” and showered his face in fervent little kisses.

“You could rescue me,” said Roman dryly.

“Rescuing’s your job, Princey,” smirked Virgil, and of course he dodged the swipe Roman took at him but then he kissed Roman too, so there wasn’t really a whole lot to complain about, technically speaking.

“Only sane man, please back me up,”

“I would think you would be much more enthusiastic about this development,” said Logan, clearly amused.

“You’re all horrible,”

“Cheer up, sweet prince,” said Logan, pressing his own light kiss to Roman’s cheek, which  _Jesus_ , when Logan wanted to flirt he really didn’t pull his punches.

And all three of them were smiling, bright and fond and not a bit smitten so, Roman supposed, it was really not  _that_  bad of a nickname.

**Author's Note:**

> im [ tulipscomeinallsortsofcolors ](%E2%80%9Dtulipscomeinallsortsofcolors.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) over on tumblr, feel free to shoot me a prompt or just ask me random shit about this verse because there is... so much


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